


be careful with that one, love

by starblessed



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Female Friendship, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 00:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: Anne feels alone as she waits by Phillip’s bedside, until an unexpected visitor pulls her from her own sorrow.Charity Barnum is alone, and Anne Wheeler is waiting. It seems as if they’re in the same boat.





	be careful with that one, love

**Author's Note:**

> written for a tumblr prompt!
> 
> also, wow, one of my fics passing the bechdel test??? I’m thrilled. impressed. delighted.

She has never felt more alone than she does sitting at Phillip’s bedside, his limp hand clutched within her own.

Anne has gotten used to the feeling of loneliness in her life, but this is a whole new beast. It is a sense of foreboding that looms over her head; the shadow of death creeping along the back wall, biding it’s time until it swoops in. The thought of Phillip — who has always shone so bright, fearless, foolish, and optimistic in all the ways that smothered her better judgement and drew her in — _dying_ here is inconceivable. She can not stand to think of his light being snuffed out in a hospital bed.

She can’t lose him. The reality chokes her. She cannot lose the man she loves. They’ve hardly started; they haven’t even had a chance to _begin._ They haven’t kissed yet, haven’t held each other through the night, haven’t even gone on a date.

And yet she already knows how much she loves him. The feelings have grown without her realizing it. She didn’t even know they were there until it was upon her all at once, a wanting so fierce that she could almost drown in it.

He loves her; she loves him. They’ve been able to touch each other while high in the air, to whisper hopes and secrets they wouldn’t otherwise dare say out loud. They’ve shared so little, though it feels like so much. Still — not enough. It _isn’t enough._

She needs more time. She needs him to wake up. She needs to tell him that she’s not afraid anymore; that she wants to try.

(She’s believed in very few things in her life: her brother, gravity, hard work, and Phillip Carlyle. She believes in Phillip wholeheartedly.)

She closes her eyes, fighting the tears she can feel welling up. She cried so much through the long night that she feels dried out. As the sun came up, she swore that she would not shed another tear, and she’s holding herself to that — no matter how her body seems determined to betray her.

_No more crying. Just hope. Prayers and hope… that’s all we’ve got now._

Anne squeezes Phillip’s hand tight, and tries to breathe with him.

She’s so focused on that — matching him breath for breath, just so he knows he isn’t alone — that she doesn’t realize when they aren’t. The sound of someone else’s soft inhale from behind her nearly makes her drop Phillip’s hand in surprise.

Barnum was at the hospital last night, even before Anne got here. W.D. and Lettie came by early this morning. Other than that, there have been no visitors for a long time. Anne is the only one.

She turns, and her eyes widen to see Charity Barnum standing there, hands folded. Mrs. Barnum looks more reserved than she’s used to seeing. Her hair isn’t loose anymore, and she’s gives up the bright colors she prefers for a somber blue. Most striking is the absence of that characteristic pleasantness on her face. Now, she looks close to tears.

Anne knows the feeling.

“Mrs. Barnum,” she says, hoping her tone hides her surprise. Charity looks at her and makes no effort to smile.

“Has he woken up yet?”

Anne shakes her head. “The doctors aren’t sure he’s going to wake up at all.”

She doesn’t cry when she says this. It’s a solid fact — like the weight of a trapeze, the blue of Phillip’s eyes, the way fire destroys. In facts, Anne can hide from emotion. Reality is Phillip’s hand, lifeless in her own. Facts are clinical… _simple._

Charity bows her head. She takes a few steps closer, then hesitates, as if she’s not sure she’s welcome. “He’s been… very kind to our family,” she says softly. “Especially since Phineas has been away. He’s stopped by just to talk to me and play with the girls… that was very good of him.”

“He would be glad you’re here,” Anne tells her. (It’s true — she’s seen the way Phillip treats those girls like siblings, and gazes at Charity with an adoration usually reserved for a child to his mother.) Her words must be exactly what Charity needs to hear, because she sighs and takes a seat at Phillip’s other side.

She gazes at his slack face for a moment. Her worry is plain in her deeply-etched frown. When she reaches out to brush a limp strand of hair off his forehead, Anne holds her breath, hoping beyond hope that his eyes will flutter at her touch. They don’t, of course. Charity pulls back, and Phillip remains as he is.

Anne doesn’t know what drives her to speak. The words leave her lips before she can stop them. “If your husband hadn’t run in, he would have died in there. Looking for me.” She swallows. “Mr. Barnum is a hero.”

Something unbearably sorrowful flickers in Charity’s eyes. “Yes,” she agrees. “A real hero.”

Anne knows she shouldn’t ask. It isn’t her place; they all have more troubles than they know what to do with right now. Her instincts have never failed her, however, and right now her instincts are positive that something isn’t right between Charity Barnum and her husband. Not that she’s surprised — with all Barnum’s time away thanks to his tour, Anne figures any marriage would be strained. Charity, however, has always struck her as loyal to a fault. Until now.

“Is… everything alright with you, Mrs. Barnum?” she ventures, hesitant. Charity looks up.

She’s surprised; but to her credit, she doesn’t attempt to lie. The truth must be less painful, because it leaves her lips as easily as Anne’s question. “No,” she replies, voice soft in the hospital’s silence. “Things aren’t alright. My husband… has made mistakes. Right now, I... I don’t know what my future will be.”

That’s a feeling Anne knows too well. She’s never felt herself able to relate to Mrs. Barnum very well — what could a wealthy white woman understand about growing up the poor in a society that always saw you as “the help”? They’ve always seemed worlds away from each other. In this moment, however, she wonders if they don’t understand each other perfectly.

Anne takes a deep breath, mulling over her words for a long moment before speaking. “The circus is my home,” she says. “The best home I’ve ever had. Sure, we don’t got a building anymore, but we have something more important. All of us have become a family. Nothing can take that away. Family lasts forever.”

“Forever,” Charity echoes. She stares down at her hands, brow furrowed. “I used to wish happiness could last forever.”

“Happiness fades. It goes in and out, like the tide.” Anne’s words are frank, but not harsh. They’re only true, after all. “You cling on to what you can during the bad times, because you remember… remember that the tide always comes back.” She takes a breath, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, am I doing this right? People rarely look to me for advice, so I have few chances to give it. I’m… not good at this.”

Charity chuckles. The sound is sad, but light as seafoam. “You’re doing fine.”

“My point is —“ Anne takes another breath and looks back up at her. “You’re never alone with your family. And you’ve got us. Barnum’s a part of this family, and so are you and your girls. You’ll always have people to go to if you need us.”

Charity smiles. The flash of mirth fades as Anne goes on. “Thing is, though, you love your husband. So… he’ll always be a part of you, no matter what. You can’t get rid of the people you love, even if you push ‘em as far away as possible. They’re always there. Whatever you decide to do, he’ll always be in your heart, and in your girls’. Even if he hurt you.”

“He did hurt me,” Charity confirms, shaking her head. “That’s why I feel like I have to go. He’s lost sight of everything that used to make him happy, now that he has all he ever wanted.” She clears her throat, as if to rid it of an inconvenient lump. “Don’t be mistaken — I know my husband very well. I can read him like a book. Phineas loves me, he loves our family… but he loves himself, too. He always has. I just never thought it would eclipse everything else important to him.”

“He’s a flawed man,” Anne nods. She’s seen Barnum’s greatest weaknesses firsthand; not to mention his greatest strengths. “You can’t change him. If he’s broken, you can’t fix it. Only he can do that.”

Charity blinks slowly, wringing her hands in her lap. Slowly, she moves to caress Phillip’s motionless fingers. Anne imagines she sees them twitch, only for a second, before Charity pulls away.

“It seems,” she says, “that we’re in the same position here. It’s all up to them.”

“Live or die,” Anne says. “Let go or fight… change or lose.” It’s all up to them. She looks at Charity and feels powerless. God, it’s the worst feeling in the world.

“Whenever I felt trapped, I used to try to lose myself in my head,” Charity says quietly. “Books. Stories. Daydreams. It always gave me… a sense of power.”

“I’ve got my trapeze,” Anne replies. There was no uncertainty in the air — only gravity, the ropes, and herself. She could rely on herself most of all; on the raw power contained in her coiled body. _All that power_ belonged to her. Thinking of her trapeze makes her feel a little less helpless, less desperate. _Powerful._

Charity stares at her for a long moment. Anne stares back, placid. After an eternity, Charity gives Phillip’s hand one last squeeze. She bends down, placing a chaste kiss on his burnt forehead, before pulling back. There is a trace of ash on her pink lips.

“When the tide comes back in, Anne,” she says, “I would love it if you could teach me a few things on the trapeze.”

Anne blinks up at her, and slowly nods her head. “And maybe you could tell me some stories,” she says. “I’d like that very much.”

Charity Barnum smiles, then walks away. She leaves nothing but the scent of violets and the memory of sad eyes in her wake. Anne settles into her seat, pulls her shawl tighter around her, and waits.

Whether Phillip comes through or not is up to him. In the meantime, Anne can only stand by and hold her breath, trying to block out the world outside.

It will be okay. She just has to wait for the tide to come in.


End file.
